


Lost in Your Light

by Vitaldelirium



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, seriously lol, this is a kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitaldelirium/pseuds/Vitaldelirium
Summary: Kate has to admit, without hesitation, that in her lifetime, she has done some pretty badass things... And yet, somehow, none of those things seem to come close to making her feel as powerful as this.
Relationships: Kate Bishop/America Chavez
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36
Collections: The Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2020





	Lost in Your Light

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this prompt](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/35992.html?thread=4231064#cmt4231064) at the [2020 Annual Femslash Kink Meme](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/35992.html): Marvel: America Chavez/Kate Bishop, Strap-on.  
> Title is from ["Lost In Your Light" by Dua Lipa ft. Miguel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-AuLm7S3XE).  
> Enjoy!

Kate has to admit, without hesitation, that in her lifetime, she has done some pretty badass things.

She has consorted with aliens.

She has trained with actual Avengers.

She's saved the city.

Fuck, she's saved the fucking world (a few times over).

And yet, somehow, none of those things seem to come close to making her feel as powerful as this.

Because America Chavez is powerful—like otherworldly (other-dimensionally?) strong, but she doesn’t seem it right now, not when she’s naked and writhing and getting to the point of just desperate enough that her grip on Kate’s thigh _just about_ hurts.

Kate doesn’t really get her turn with the strap-on often because America’s just so, so, _so_ good with it, but when she does get her turn to strap up, like now for instance, well then, she makes sure to make the best of it.

She’s been teasing America for fucking ages, torturing her with soft touches —with the flat of her tongue when she knows America wants suction, with just the tips of her fingers when she knows America wants her deep, with the patterned ridges of the silicone dildo against her clit when she knows America wants it inside her.

She hasn’t let her come yet.

She’s brought her to that maddening brink just about a dozen times already — could probably bring her to that maddening brink about a dozen more times because honestly, it's just that fucking awe-inducing, that surge of power she feels with America writhing beneath her — but America really is getting desperate, the kind of desperate that tends to mean that retribution will be dealt swift and hard (and seriously, Kate's not sure the city can deal with her taking another superhero sabbatical because America's decided to fuck her into another dimension again).

"Kate," America growls, low and rough, fingernails digging into skin enough to definitely hurt this time and well, fuck it (there are plenty of superheroes nowadays, the world will certainly still be standing if they end up taking a few days off).

"Yeah?" Kate asks —way too conversational— as she grips the base of the dildo tightly in her fist, taps the bulged tip against America's swollen clit and bucks her hips, lets the hard length glide slowly against slick folds; America shudders. "Do you want me to fuck you?” Kate taunts, rubbing the head of the dildo in a circle against America's clit and retreating before America can chase the pleasure.

America groans.

“What do you think, princess?” she grits out, hips jerking, searching, but Kate doesn’t concede; not yet; instead, she inches closer until the tip of the dildo is poised dangerously close to exactly where America wants her but she doesn’t move a millimeter further.

“Kate!” America whines, exasperation cascading over like she's been pushed too far, made too heated.

Her frustration only makes Kate chuckle.

“I think that maybe you should ask a bit nicer,” she teases, smirking, dildo still fisted, still poised just out of reach.

America lurches, pushes up into her hard so their chests collide but when their lips actually connect, it's somehow soft, America catching Kate's bottom lip between hers sweetly despite her frustration.

She draws Kate in, licks into her mouth so hotly that Kate almost forgets her name let alone what she's supposed to be doing.

It's not until America retreats, Kate left winded and America hardly even breathless, that Kate suddenly remembers that a universe outside of America's lips on hers exists — suddenly remembers that in said universe she's currently welding more power than even her bow and arrow affords her and she drags the head of the dildo slowly against slicks folds once more to prove it.

"Fuck, Kate," America gripes, plastering on a smile that is sugary sweet and so incredibly fucking fake, "Could you please fuck me with the strap-on you chose to wear with what I assume was intent to fuck me tonight?"

Kate chuckles at the thinly-veiled sarcasm but decides to finally actually take pity on her girl.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she teases, keeps the base of the dildo fisted for more control as she slowly thrusts forward, slips the head of the dildo inside her.

America gasps, tenses at the initial intrusion but she’s wet, so wet that the tip sinks in readily, stretches her effortlessly; still, Kate pauses, gives America a moment to acclimate to the stretch of it.

“Is it ok?” she asks, soft despite her initial teasing.

“Yeah,” America immediately answers, fingertips curling around Kate’s hip, tugging. “Please fuck me, Kate,” she pleads, voice hoarse.

And well, she really did ask so fucking nicely this time that Kate can’t really refuse, grips America by those marvelous thighs for leverage and rocks her hips to sink the silicone cock in to the hilt until her thighs are brushing the inside of America’s, her knees pressing against smooth skin and strong muscles to keep America spread wide.

She pulls out slow, intends to build up in intensity but America chases her with the strong cant of her hips, sheathes the silicone inside her quickly with the force of her thrust and it completely eliminates any possibility of taking things slow.

There's no real tease left in Kate anyway as she watches the dildo disappear inside her girlfriend. America's already writhing urgently, making these short little gasps that sound surprisingly breathless as she rolls and bucks her hips, fucking herself on the dildo. Kate knows there's little she can do to keep America —super strength and all— still, so she presses her fingers harder into the strong muscles of her thighs, uses her own not so measly strength (thanks to Clint for pushing her at the gym) to push into her deeper— to fuck her harder.

The rhythm she guides is artless, made clumsy by the headiness of it all, but it doesn't even matter, certainly not when she rolls her hips, the thick silicone dragging against a spot that makes America's thighs quake so violently that it feels like vibrations traveling up Kate's fingertips.

If there's anything Kate knows intimately, it's the act of repeatedly hitting a target, so she rolls her hips again, hits that same spot again, and America actually fucking whimpers, slips her fingers against the sweaty plains of Kate's back, pushing her fingertips into the knots of her spine and tugging until Kate's completely on top of her, no longer really even thrusting, just grinding.

Kate's own pleasure is swelling in her stomach, buoyed by the tug of the straps against her amidst their increasing friction as they move against each other but Kate's sole focus is America and the way her toes are curling into the space she's tucked them into against the inside of Kate's knees.  
America is obviously close, her chest heaving erratically and jaw clenched against Kate's lips where she's nestled.

Kate slides her palm from thigh to hip, presses down hard for leverage as she pumps her hips harder, pushes in deeper, desperate now to bring America over the edge she's had her precariously toppled on for a good majority of the night.

In moments like this, Kate has so much admiration for America's restraint because as she ruts her hips, palm pressed hard enough to America's hip bone that any ordinary girl would bruise, Kate's sated by the knowledge that she could never actually hurt America and knowing that America doesn't have that similar luxury of not holding back with her makes Kate that much more desperate to make this good for her — makes her want to prove her worth.

She presses her lips to America's, hardly even kissing her in the state they're in, just feeling the shudder of America's breath as she slams into her harder but slower —slowed by the way America is clinging onto her, gripping at her like she can't stand the thought of them not being skin to skin right now.

"Fuck, yes, Kate," America gasps against Kate's lips, fingernails sinking harshly into the skin of Kate's back. "Fuck, that's it," she mumbles, hips rising to meet Kate's thrusts, chasing the orgasm Kate's been so brazenly denying her all night.

It happens so quickly, America finally crying out brokenly, her whole body tensing beneath Kate's, suddenly weak, if only for a second, as she's caught mid-thrust, hips still risen off the mattress. It's quick but glorious, the way she stills, like every dimension the vast universe has to offer comes to a standstill for the seconds America's body does and in that moment, Kate can conceptualize them all, can see the beauty in all the worlds buzzing around them right there in the slight flush of America’s cheeks and the tight clench of her jaw.

She erupts into shivers beneath Kate's weight, all that underlying strength reduced to trembles in her arms as Kate pushes her by the hips back down, holds her firm as she guides her through the aftermath, continues grinding—pumping her hips, slower, deeper — until America finally goes slack beneath her.

It's breathtaking even though it doesn't take America long to recover— the rise and fall of her chest steadying, her breaths coming easier as her fingertips soothe over the indents her nails scraped against Kate's back. When she opens her eyes though, she looks dazed, and Kate can't help but take pride in being the one to do that to her.

" _Fuck_ ," she breathes, quietly awed, taking America —this beautiful, powerful specimen of woman beneath her— in.  
America chuckles, clearly sated.

"Fuck," she agrees, straining up to connect their lips, soft and sweet, her fingers caressing slow down the planes of Kate's back until she reaches the edge of the material of the strap, slipping her fingers beneath it and letting it snap back against skin, suddenly retreating from their kiss with a smirk. "I hope you know I'm never letting you wear this again," she warns, playing with the harness of the strap-on.

Kate, who knows an empty threat when she hears one, only laughs as she finally pulls out, drawing another tiny tremor from America.

"So you mean like same time next week then?" Kate teases.

America rolls her eyes but doesn't deny it as she strains up to meet Kate's lips again and with superheroine strength, manages to flip their positions easily — has Kate on her back before she can even rebut.

“It’s cute how you think you'll even be able to walk next week by the time I'm done with you, princess," America taunts.

"Yeah?" Kate presses, though there's no emptiness in that threat; still, she eggs her on — can't seem to suppress the urge to tease. "I'll let you explain to Clint why I can't train then."

America laughs, full-bodied, genuinely amused.

"Don't tempt me because you know I will," she replies, fingers caressing down Kate's abs, coming to clasp around her hip. "In explicit detail too," she adds.

There's no emptiness in that threat either but Kate can't find it in herself to care, certainly not as America settles over her, moaning loudly as she presses the glistening dildo back inside herself, those glorious thighs bracketing Kate's as she begins to ride it.

Kate keens, her whole body heating like she's being dangled over a flame, as she grips at America's thighs, hanging on for the ride.

Honestly, Kate has to admit, without hesitation, that in her lifetime, she has done some pretty amazing things and yet, somehow, none of them rank higher than this.

The End.


End file.
